


The Struggle is Real

by Emerald Embers (emeraldembers)



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: Class Differences, Curtain Fic, Furniture Shopping, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-01-10
Packaged: 2018-03-07 00:36:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3154247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldembers/pseuds/Emerald%20Embers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kieren takes Simon bed shopping and quickly regrets his decision.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Struggle is Real

Kieren was never shopping with Simon again.

Art materials aside, he had never been a fussy shopper in his first life, and he was even less inclined towards fuss in this one; he would decide what he wanted before entering a shop, look for it, and if it was there, buy it. Whether it was for something to eat, wear, or watch, he never spent more than fifteen minutes looking for something in a shop, and he didn’t actually mind asking for assistance if he couldn’t find what he wanted.

Simon was a _browser_.

 

Kieren understood that a new bed was an investment, especially one that he hoped he’d be sharing with Simon repeatedly during its lifetime, but there were less than a dozen frames to choose from in the shop and Simon had still managed to spend the better part of an hour wandering between them. If Simon had sensitive skin or a bad back that he could feel, Kieren might have been more sympathetic, but they were both undead - physically he might as well sleep on a bare mattress on the floor, for all he could feel.

"Simon, come on," Kieren said, dragging his hands down his face and feeling like the perfect stereotype of a teenager. "I’m _bored_. Let’s order that oak one with the drawers and go home.”

Simon looked up from the mattress he’d spread-eagled himself across with a smirk, and if Kieren wasn’t pissed off at him and Simon wasn’t wearing at least three layers of clothing it might have had certain things trying to stir that didn’t have the bloodflow to finish stirring. “Y’know you’re going to have this forever, don’t you? Might want to be a little less hasty signing your sleeping life away.”

"Ten years," Kieren corrected. "I mean, it’s a lot, but it’s a bed Simon. You sleep in it. That one seemed fine for sleeping in."

Simon rolled off the mattress, walked over to the next divan and flopped across it. Not that a divan would be any use to Kieren, which he had already explained to Simon at least twice, given that he needed all the storage space he could get either built into or left empty beneath a bedframe. “Why ten?” Simon asked, curious.

"Because of basic hygiene?" Kieren replied, shaking his head when Simon extended a hand towards him; he wasn’t about to join Simon on the mattress, not when it would only encourage him to drag out the shopping experience even more.

"So we’ll wash the sheets and keep turning the mattress. It’s not like either of us is going to wet the bed by accident."

Kieren tilted his head, realised that Simon either hadn’t read the leaflets about bed life or had opted to ignore them. “Beds still have limited shelf life, you know. Not unless you like sleeping on dried sweat and mites.”

Simon shrugged. “I got my uncle’s bed when he died and it never did me any harm. And he’d had that as long as I knew him.”

That feeling of realisation deepened into a feeling of understanding, and a fair bit of discomfort. He sometimes forgot that his family, while not swimming in riches, was at least comfortably well off. Simon had scraped his way by, in comparison, and Kieren felt a bit dickish for not recognising the reason for Simon’s slow browsing earlier. “I can actually afford to replace it,” Kieren said, letting an apologetic note into his voice.

Simon extended his hand again, and Kieren took the hint this time, lay down beside him and cuddled up.

"Sorry for being a tit," Kieren said, and Simon laughed, smiling as if he hadn’t even thought there was something to forgive.

"It’s fine. Sorry for being an old fart."

Kieren laughed in return, stretched an arm across Simon’s chest to hold him. “I did like that oak frame, though. And it has slats, which are -” Kieren would have flushed if he had blood to do it with, suspected his face showed as much by the way Simon was grinning. “I mean, you can do things with slats. If you want to. And have something to do it with.”

"Kinky little shit," Simon said, fondly, leaning over for a quick kiss. Kieren would have dragged it out more, but they’d already had a few funny looks from the staff and he didn’t want to push their luck. "I think you’ve sold me on it. Do you want to go make the order while I hit up the hardware section?"

Kieren winced internally at the thought Simon had more shopping planned ahead, but nodded anyway, glad they had at least settled on the bed.

"I have a sudden interest in rope," Simon said, and any doubts Kieren had about letting Simon head off on his own were quelled.

 

Less than a week later and Kieren’s room had been rearranged, his new bed built and placed, and he flopped onto it with a real sense of satisfaction at a job well done.

"I’m never going to leave this bed," Kieren said, stretching out across the sheets, and Simon grinned.

"If you’ll let me head back to Amy’s for the rope, that can be arranged."


End file.
